Unbound
by etheral-23
Summary: How long can you fight the darkness in yourself? With everything collapsing around you, how long can your sanity resist to keep your demons buried away. To save the land, the world, from itself, your only choice, is to give in to the urges and instincts sealed away in the depths of your soul to do what must be done.


_I haven't given up on my other stories, i'm working on them, this is something to i needed to get out of my system, I always pictured the Dragonborn as a conflicted hero, trying to find balance between his/her mortal heart and __his/_her dragon soul.

_This going to be a series of one-shots, following a somewhat linear storyline._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

War. It always came down to war with the children of Nirn.

Was this their only fate? Were they doomed to forever slaughter each other until none was left standing?

Was this why she had killed Alduin? To preserve this litany of bloodshed?

There she stood now, Reginleif Fireblade, on the plains that separated Whiterun from Eastmarch, waiting for the men and women who sought to free Skyrim, but were only sealing its fate.

Reginleif had been around Tamriel, she had seen the force of the Thalmor, Skyrim alone stood no chance. The Redguards may have defeated them in their own lands, but the Dominion had been exhausted and lost too much of their forces after the war with the Empire. Reginleif honestly doubted Hammerfell, or Skyrim, alone could stand against the Thalmor once they had recovered enough of their strength. And the civil war had given them more than enough time.

They were waiting, like a wolf that stalks a wounded pray.

She sighed, weary of… everything really. She was the only one Ulfric would, probably, listen. And so the fate of Skyrim rested on her shoulders… again.

Why was it always her? Was there no other able to stop all of this? In truth, she knew the answer. She was a daughter of Akatosh, a champion of the gods, a mortal destined to achieve many great things. Harbinger, Nightingale, Archmage, Dragonborn, she was all of this things, she was a living legend, just like the heroes of old. Like the Eternal Champion, the Hero of Daggerfall, the Nerevarine, and the Hero of Kvatch.

Everyone grew hearing about the great deeds of such heroes, who always, despite the odds, would overcome everything that came their way and achieve greatness, never doubting themselves, never feeling the temptation of just giving up. Reginleif knew the truth, it wasn't as simple as that.

Ever since Helgen, since Alduin… since Miraak. Nothing had been the same, she had been forced to make choices that affected those around her more that they affected her. Everyone just went to her to solve their problems, and she always ended up agreeing to help them, it was always about the others, not once a stranger approached her to see if she needed help.

She always placed others before her, but that was intentional, Reginleif always helped those in need, forced herself to feel empathy, it was the only way to battle her greatest enemy… herself.

It has always been there, a whisper in her dreams, a voice that gave promises of power, a voice that told her to give in to her true nature. Ever since Mirmulnir, the first dragon soul she had consumed, the whispers became a constant voice in her head, a hunger in her soul.

She knew it was all her, those feelings to cause pain, to acquire even more power, to impose her will over the weak and dominate them.

Reginleif tried to fight it, the urge to dominate, but there were times she wasn't strong enough, and the dragon inside her took over. Sinding… gods the poor man was cursed, he desperately sought a release from his torment, she had promised to help him… and she had killed him like a mere animal. Why? Because it felt natural, he was weak and she was strong, it was her right.

She had wept like a toddler over skinned corpse of the werewolf that had once been a man.

Alduin had been the most terrible thing she had ever faced… but it was Miraak who was the epitaph of all her fears was. Miraak was her... he was what she could become.

He was Dragonborn like her, the first in fact. She often wondered, why had Akatosh given him the dragon blood and soul, was the Great Dragon originally hoping that it would be Miraak who would slay Alduin. Or had he just been an experiment, to see what were the effects of a dragon being born in a mortal's body.

Seeing the results firsthand, Reginleif questioned the Dragon God's judgment when he still gifted Alessia, Reman and Tiber. They were all great heroes… but they rose to glory through conquest, most likely following the impulses of their dragon souls.

Sometimes, she just wanted to give in, to finally be free and let the dragon take over. But she couldn't… she knew she couldn't allow that.

Once more she sighed. She wished Lydia were there with her, but she hadn't seen her since their fight. Her friend had told her that as Dragonborn, it was her duty to fight for Skyrim's freedom, Reginleif tried to make her see reason, but she was refused to listen, and so she left. To where, Reginleif did not know.

Then saw them approaching, the Stormcloak army, at the head Ulfric Stormcloak and Galmar Stone-Fist rode on horseback, along with a Stormblade she didn't recognize, it was a woman, that much was clear, but the helmet completely covered her face. The leader of the rebellion signaled for his men to stop, and so they did, he, along with Galmar and the Stormblade, marched towards the Dragonborn.

Dressed in her dragonscale armor, Reginleif tried look to calm, when in truth she was shaking inside, not with fear, but anger. There was another reason she hadn't joined the Stormcloask… Faendal, oh gods, Faendal.

It was all her fault, after Lydia left, Reginleif sought company from one of the first true friends she had made in Skyrim, and asked him to follow her on some adventures, which the bosmer eagerly agreed. She had taken them to Eastmarch, to explore some old dwemer ruin in search for one of the Aethirium Shards, she asked him to keep watch while she went inside to retrieve it.

When she returned, he saw Faendal on the ground, blood pouring forth from a deep wound on his chest. Around his body, a group of Stormcloaks with bloodied weapons laughed at the corpse fallen elf.

She didn't know why they did it. Perhaps because Faendal was a bosmer, and Valenwood was part of the Aldmeri Dominion, perhaps they thought he was a Thalmor spy. Or maybe because they just saw an elf and no one was around to stop them. She didn't know, all she knew that in the blink of an eye, they bodies were nothing more than bloody pieces.

She had taken the body to Riverwood, and delivered the terrible news to Camilla. The poor woman broke down, crying her eyes out and screaming the name of her lover, the name of the child's father that was growing inside her.

If Ulfric somehow managed to become king, and let his people do whatever they pleased, like taking away an unborn child's father just because he was an elf, then Reginleif herself would burn Skyrim to the ground before allowing the usurper to twist the proud nation of warriors into a another Aldmeri Dominion.

Ulfric and his two followers dismounted and walked towards her until they were less than two feet away from her. Galmar looked as foul-mooded and stern as always while Ulfric's expression was unreadable. This time she got a better look at the Stormblade, she was wearing bear pelts over armor, just like every Stormblade officer did, but instead of the bear head being alone on her head she was also wearing a guard helmet.

"Dragonborn" The leader of the rebellion addressed her. "I do hope you're standing here with news that Balgruuf has reconsidered his allegiance" His voice was still as deep and strong like the first time she had heard it in Helgen.

"No" She replied.

"Then why do you stand here now?" He asked without a hint impatience in his voice.

"I've come here to stop you" He narrowed his eyes at here.

"So… you've sided with the Empire"

"No" She replied with a small shock of her head. "I came here today so you could see that your actions are only dooming Skyrim"

"We're _saving_ Skyrim" Said Galmar with barely contained fury.

"You're weakening her" She snapped. "Without the aid from the Empire, Skyrim would become an easy prey for the Thalmor, Ulfric…" She said, almost begging "I know you want the best for Skyrim, I _know_, but your anger and hatred is blinding you from the real threat"

"We have grown weak because of the Empire's own weakness…" His voice grew fierce. "You weren't in the Great War girl, you didn't see all our kinsmen die by the hands of those Thalmor bastards, and then see the emperor sell our freedom, all the blood we shed, because of his cowardice"

"Would you rather Skyrim had burned along with all of the Empire?" She hissed. "Everyone knows the truth is nothing but a false, the Empire and the Dominion will wage war again, sooner than you think, we could used the time to recover our strength, but then you brought war on us again, weakening us further still"

"And meanwhile, we should just sit and let those pointy eared motherfuckers strip away our people's lives and freedom?!" Shouted Galmar.

"I'm not happier with this any more than you are" She said. "But we didn't have another choice, we need to stay together all the Thalmor will destroy us all"

"All we need is our pride and our strenght as nords back, and nothing will stop us" Claimed Ulfric, Reginleif's head snapped in his direction, and incredulous look haunted her eyes.

"Are… are you serious?!" She shouted. "You're actually so arrogant, so blinded that you can't see that if Skyrim alone fights the Thalmor, weakened as we are now, every son and daughter of the land will die?!" She took a step forward. "How are you going to stand up to their magic, when you encourage the people you lead to scorn the craft for which our forefathers had the outmost respect!" Another step, Ulfric did not move, his hand didn't even go for the handle of his axe. "How are you going to face their numbers, with all the warriors that have died because of the war you started?" She looked at him directly in the eyes. "How long do you think you'll last… when no one stands up for you, because of the way you've treated all those who are not nords?"

"We nords never needed anyone else, we can stand up on our own" Was his only reply. Reginleif was lost of words. _This_ was how he answered? How could the man be so foolish? "All we need is our spirit, and only by freeing ourselves from the Empire's weakness, shall we recover it… if you don't think that's enough then…" He titled his head to his left, to the Stormblade. "…why don't you ask your friend?"

Reginleif turned her gaze towards the, until now, silent Stormblade. The woman pulled back the bear's head, and with both hands, lifted the helmet from her face.

Dovahkiin's heart stopped. Her lips trembled. Her breathing was slowly becoming more erratic. And here eyes watered.

"Lydia" She breathed her name, barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry" The former housecarl said, a sincere look of regret in her eyes. "But I must do what's best for my people" Reginleif shook her head.

"Lydia, no…"

"You weren't going to take action, Skyrim deserves to be free" She said.

"So you're just going to march on the very city that saw your birth?" Reginleif couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're just going to betray your father and your uncle?" If Hrongar could see her now, he would die of sorrow.

"We'll spare their lives" Lydia promised, but the tone of her voice indicated that it didn't make her feel any better. "Our cause is true, we must free Skyrim so all nords can…"

"Lydia, they killed Faendal"

The moment those words left the Dragonborn's mouth, Lydia's eyes widened to the point they threatened to fall from their sockets. Her mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a single word.

"W-What?" Her gaze went back and forth between Ulfric to the Dragonborn.

"The people you're fighting for killed him" Reginleif's voice was filled with sorrow. "They killed our friend, just because he was an elf" She stared at her friend, her eyes looking deeply into her soul. "Is that the Skyrim you want? A land ruled by ignorants, too blinded by their hatred, where they'll treat good people like trash just because they aren't nords?"

Lydia didn't respond, her mind darted back to the adventures Reginleif, she, Faendal and the others had shared together. Truly, those had been some of the happiest moments of her life… but it was too late now, she couldn't back down from the cause.

"What's done is done" She replied at last. "We can change the past" Lydia tried her best to keep her voice calm, but deep down she was hurting. "Today, we'll recover Skyrim's freedom, and then someday, things will change for the better and…"

"IT'LL NEVER CHANGE!" Reginleif all but roared, the earth around them trembled at the power of her Voice. "Not as long we let people like him do as they please!" She said, pointing at the Jarl. "When is everyone going to realize that the gods made Nirn for us, for _all_ of us" Men, mer, beastfolk, it didn't matter, the Divines wanted them to live together, not destroy each other like mindless barbarians.

For a while, no one said anything.

"This will happen no matter what you say Dragonborn" Said Ulfric, breaking the silence. "So I suggest you move aside"

"Lydia" Reginleif pleaded, tears now falling from her eyes. The other nord woman dared not meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry"

Dovahkiin felt her heart burn with pain, her very soul was being torn apart. Gods, why? Why did they allow this to happen? After all she's done, all she's sacrificed, this is how they repaid her? To see her homeland be destroyed by its own people? To be betrayed by one of the closest friends to her heart?

She wanted to run, she wanted to scream, she cursed Akatosh for birthing her soul, she cursed Anu for breathing life into her and sending her to the mortal world, she cursed Arkay for allowing it to happen. She cursed them all, every god on Aetherius and Oblivion.

She wanted it all to end, all her life she had know nothing but suffering. Her parents deaths at the hands of the Thalmor, her childhood living as a rat in the sewers of the Imperial City, her life as a adventurer filled by more sorrow than joy.

She just wanted it all to end… and it that moment she heart _it_, she heard _herself_.

_I can't make the pain go away._

No, no! She couldn't give in! Not now, not never!

_I shall destroy those who seek to harm our home_.

She was going to lose it, she knew she wouldn't be able to resist any longer. Not after all that's happened

_The one we once called friend shall be spared, if only for the pathetic fondness we feel for her_.

It was beginning to feel more like a release, an end to her endless burdens, to finally be free of herself and let her sorrows die with those that have caused her so much pain.

_When it is all done, I'll allow you to have control once more, so you can personally order the death of those cursed Thalmor_.

It was a tempting offer, she knew it wasn't lying, it was incapable of lying to herself. If they wouldn't listen, then she would crush them, and when this petty excuse for a war was over, she would direct her full attention to monsters that had taken away everything from her.

Because she was powerful, more than any of them could ever dream of. It was her right, who would stop her?

And so she gave in, morals now forgotten, emotions pushed back, ambitions now her most important concerns.

The dragon took over.

Ulfric shuddered as he looked into the Dragonborn's eyes, he had only seen those kinds of eyes once, in Helgen, eyes full of malice, ambition, cruelty. Eyes that demanded complete obedience, and made you feel that giving in was the right thing to do.

Only the eyes of Alduin World-Eater had made him feel so afraid. And now, Reginleif Fireblade was striking into his heart the same terror the Bane of King had inflicted on him.

Galmar took a step back, a sharp intake of air revealed how terrified the man was at the _creature _in front of them. Lydia did not move, but her body quaked in fear, this was _not_ the Reginleif she knew, by just looking at her eyes she could see a monster consumed by anger and hungry for revenge.

"I now understand who I am" Her voice was hers, yet it _wasn't_ hers. Her eyes held an imaginable desire to cause pain and punish those who have wronged her in the cruelest ways possible.

The _dov_ all across _Keizaal _felt the spirit of their _thuri_ finally being unleashed. Paarthurnax mourned quietly, and prayed that her anger would be swift so she could return to be the hero she truly was. Odahviing awaited impatiently the call of the Overlord, ready to carry her will by destroying all her enemies.

And so, she sent the world a message, no longer would she be bound by the petty whims of mortals. Now… now she was free at last.

"I am the dragon"


End file.
